You're Not There
by pluviophilexx
Summary: Harry reflects on parenthood and his life, reminded again of the absence of his own parents. Angst with a dollop of fluff.


AN: First time writing a Harry fic, but I tried.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything in the wonderful world of Harry Potter.

* * *

 _"You're not there  
To celebrate the man that you made  
You're not there  
To share in my success and mistakes  
Is it fair?  
You'll never know the person I'll be  
You're not there, with me"_

 ** _You're Not There - Lukas Graham_**

His life was perfect. This was perfect. Harry looked out into the yard to see James and Albus digging up the dirt, both shouting excitedly when they "discovered" a large bone. Harry chuckled to himself, inwardly praising himself for the genius idea of distracting the boys throughout the hot summer by essentially burying dog chew treats in their backyard.

His yard was surely going to be in ruins by the end, but it was worth it if it meant keeping them out of trouble, as much of Ginny's attention were focused on Lily, his daughter. He was certain that she was the most beautiful baby girl to have ever been born.

He smiled softly to himself as he stood up to go inside to make himself a cup of tea. He put water in the kettle and put it on the stove, finding comfort in making tea the muggle way. He looked through the cupboard for a mug and picked out his trusted and favorite mug: a simple white ceramic mug with the word "World's Best Dad" printed on the side, a birthday gift he'd received from the boys and Ginny a couple years ago.

The house was quiet, as both Ginny and Lily were taking a much-needed nap. He knew that Lily had a tendency of waking up after an hour or so, and that Ginny probably needed more sleep than that. Staring absentmindedly at the kitchen cabinets, the voices of James and Albus conversing in the background, Harry relished these rare moments of peace in the house.

He was taken out of is reverie by the sound of the kettle and he languidly took the kettle off the stove, pouring the hot water into his mug. He tilted it slightly so that the water would come out in a slow stream. The sound was therapeutic to Harry's ears.

He steeped his tea for a few minutes before adding a lump of sugar and a dash of milk. Keeping his mind blank, he sat down at the kitchen table.

"Dad!" James and Albus rushed into the house and Harry turned his head to his sons.

"Are you done playing outside?" Harry asked, looking over the boys' clothes covered in dirt and grass stains.

"Yeah," James bounced on the balls of his feet. "Can we watch the telly?"

"After a bath," Harry stood up, his hot tea forgotten. "Come on, boys."

Harry ushered both his sons into the bathroom and had them bathed as quietly as he could manage with two loud toddlers. Wincing when Albus let out a particularly loud squeal while splashing the water, Harry couldn't help but grin at the pure, innocent joy on his face.

Drying off the boys and putting them into clean clothes, Harry put their dirty clothes into the hamper before turning on the television for them. Bright, vivid colors and an overly enthusiastic host was too much for Harry to handle at the moment, and he returned to the kitchen after a few minutes. His boys, however, were very much entranced and taken with the show.

Harry returned to his now cold tea, and he sat there for a moment, staring at it. He wondered if this was how it was like for his parents when he was a baby. Did they also not have a moment for hot tea?

He swirled the tea in his mug as his thoughts again drifted to his parents. He had lost them as a baby, he had almost no recollection of his parents in his own memories, except for the two instances that preceded terror and death, and only had glimpses of them through the memories of others or through stories and pictures.

Losing them so young, many people had tried to convince him that it wasn't as horrible as losing parents with memories intact. Why did so many people believe that this was true?

Sure, memories made things more real, more reminiscent, but where there could have been wistful memories, he had a painfully empty, blank space.

What kind of advice would his parents have given when it came to proposing to Ginny? Would they have liked Ginny? Harry closed his eyes and imagined how it would have been like, announcing to his parents that he was engaged.

He wondered what if would have been like, telling his parents about his job acceptance at the Ministry as an official Auror.

He wondered what kind of advice his father would have given him after the colossal fight Harry had with Ginny when she accused him of not being happy with her pregnancy announcement.

He wondered how his mother would console him.

Harry opened his eyes. He couldn't even wonder how it would have been like realistically. The only stories of his early childhood were through the stories that Sirius and Remus told him, and he felt they painted them as almost too perfect. They didn't tell him about how hard it must have been to raise a child for the first time. He loved his children, but he knew he wasn't the perfect father.

Sirius and Remus had taken his father's place and cared for him as fathers would. Arthur and Molly had also taken the role of surrogate parents to Harry as well. As far as he was concerned, he essentially grew up with an abundance of parents.

The laughter of James and Albus caused Harry to come out of his thoughts. He smiled at the sound of their laughter, a warmth spreading throughout his chest. He was not the perfect father, but he was doing a pretty damn good job, if he could say so himself. If his parenting was reflected in the personality and behavior of his children, he was in good shape. Although rambunctious at times, they were innately kind-hearted and were open-minded to everything.

What would his parents think of him now, a parent himself? He was sure that they would have loved every inch of his children.

But they weren't there. They would never see just how blue James's eyes are, how Albus's hair is just as disheveled as his own, or how serenely beautiful Lily is. They would never know just how kind and loving his children were, never know the limitless amount of affection his children could have showered on them.

They would never know the gains of their sacrifice.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to see Ginny standing over him, a worried expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, running a hand through Harry's hair.

"I'm fine," Harry smiled, getting up to kiss his wife on the cheek. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yeah," Ginny sat down next to him, putting her hand on his knee. "What were you thinking about so intensely?"

"Just how perfect our children are," Harry replied softly. "And how my parents will never get the chance to see them."

"Oh, Harry," Ginny reached up to grab one of Harry's hands. "I know that they would have loved them."

"Yeah."

"You know what I like to imagine?" Ginny spoke after a few seconds of silence.

"What?" Harry looked at her, a small smile forming on his face.

"It's a bit silly, I suppose," Ginn grinned, looking at Harry before placing her arms on top of the table, resting her chin on her arms.

"I like silly things," Harry replied, taking in the adorable form of his wife.

"I kind of like to imagine that your parents are watching over us, like we're their favorite television program," Ginny smiled softly, closing her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ginny sighed happily. "And in my head, I also like to imagine that Sirius, Tonks, Remus, and Fred sometimes join them for a view."

Harry didn't say anything, just smiling at the mental picture.

"And your father and Sirius have a running commentary on everything you do, as if they're commentating on a game of Quidditch," Ginny continued, her voice becoming more animated. "Remus and Tonks, of course, have their own special 'Teddy' program, and Fred…" her voice drifted off.

"Fred," Harry picked up her sentence. "Would be watching the 'Weasley Family', but I bet he has a wager going on with my dad and Sirius as to who Lily is going to resemble the most."

Ginny laughed softly. "She does have my hair and your eyes, Harry."

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "So my mum, then?"

Ginny laughed before looking directly into Harry's eyes.

"You are both your parents, Harry," Ginny said slowly, trying to formulate her thoughts into words. "Your parents are literally a part of you. I know you are tired of people telling you that your parents are always with you in your heart, but more than your heart, Harry, you have your parents through your children."

Ginny bit her lip, once again trying to express herself through words.

"I can't possibly know what it's like for you, but I know how important family is," Ginny put a hand on Harry's arm. "And you know how people tell you that your father and mother are living through you? Well, now they're also living through our three beautiful children. I know it's not the same, seeing as how they are also my children—"

"But that's what makes them so perfect," Harry interrupted her, placing a hand over hers, a smile on his face. "You're perfect."

"If you make me cry, then you'll have to be the one who gets Lily when she wakes up," Ginny's eyes started to well.

"I'll get Lily, regardless," Harry chuckled, leaning in to softly place a kiss on her lips.

Like clockwork, they heard the cries of their daughter reach their ears.

"Stay put and think about how perfect you are while I go and get out perfect daughter," Harry stood up, placing another affectionate kiss on the top of her head.

"Ah, the perfect husband," Ginny laughed.

"The perfect family."


End file.
